


Lock Me in Your Heart

by glennjaminhow



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Bicycles, Dennis is nice, Episode: s13e05 The Gang Gets New Wheels, Fluff, If only s13 was this forgiving, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 14:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glennjaminhow/pseuds/glennjaminhow
Summary: Dennis buys Mac a new bike. Set after 13x05 "The Gang Gets New Wheels."





	Lock Me in Your Heart

It starts annoyingly, as most things do.

Mac is easily the most irritating person on the face of the planet. The dude will bitch and whine mercilessly about whatever he’s fixating on for centuries. Dennis can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t go to the fucking bathroom without Mac breathing down his Goddamn neck. When he’s really hung up on something, it becomes glued to every surface of their apartment, of Paddy’s, The Rainbow, the Wawa, and Dennis can’t get him to stop unless he caves in and gives Mac exactly what he wants. A few years ago, he had to make him an apple pie because he was so fucking stoned. The pot brownies weren't sitting well with him, and Dennis found himself doing everything for Mac that night, even though he was just as messed up as Mac was. He even helped Mac go to the bathroom. But Mac was crying about the ‘mysterious’ and ‘appalling’ lack of apple pie. So Dennis baked him one. From scratch. Just to get him to shut up, of course. It doesn’t matter at all that Mac kissed him after he took the first bite. 

Pfff. Of course it doesn’t matter. Why would it matter?

Right now, Mac’s hung up on the loss of his bike. Some 12 year old dickweeds stole it, and Dennis doesn’t ask about the blood on Mac’s knuckles because he doesn’t want to know. Mac did say he killed a kid, and Charlie said he saw him do it, but Mac already can’t shut the fuck up as it is. Why would he provoke him? He’s just trying to detail his new Range Rover in peace. Economy Jon was kind enough to sell it to him for a steal; a ’93 Range Rover is priceless, after all. Dennis kind of misses Economy Jon. The fantasy baseball league. Chilling with cool guys and a couple of brewskis in a place where he didn’t have to pretend to be someone he isn’t. 

“I miss my bike,” Mac says sadly for the 3,747th time in an hour. He’s sitting on the curb while Dennis does the manual labor, picking at a small hole in his navy pants.

Dennis rolls his eyes. “I know, Mac. Believe me. I know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you won’t stop talking about it!” His cheeks heated, he drops the sponge on the hood.

See? Irritating as shit, right?

Mac frowns. “You just don’t get what it feels like to have something important to you stolen right out from under your nose!”

“You blew up my old Range Rover!” Dennis points out. “Or have you already forgotten about that?”

“You know it wasn’t stolen, you little bitch! And we left it outside the bar so you could find it more better!”

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

“I just miss my bike, Den,” Mac murmurs. “You don’t understand…”

Fucking Christ.

Dennis inhales deeply, leans against the new Range Rover, and proceeds to tune out Mac’s incessant bike-related babble. He’ll Goddamn lose it if he hears anything else about the fucking thing. It’s a bike. A fucking bike. Mac blew up his CAR, what he used to transport himself around Philly, what he used to showboat to the ladies, what he used to love more than anything. The old Range Rover got him through some hard shit he didn’t want to remember, but always did because of the stains on the floorboard, the pocketknife in the back, the razor in the under the front passenger seat. But none of that matters now, does it? Thanks to his supposed ‘friends,’ he left to go be a dad and came back to find his favorite possession destroyed.

Whatever. Move past it. 

So, the next day, Dennis does what he always does and fixes Mac’s problem for him. Mac misses his bike? Dennis has him covered. Mac won’t stop talking about it? Dennis has a solution. Dennis knows he’s an amazing dude, but, seriously, he’s even more amazing than he realized for putting up with this irrational, dumbass bullshit for the past 25 years. 

Dennis puts the new bike in the new car. He cranks up his music, rolls the windows down to let in the early autumn air, and belts out song after song until he parallel parks outside the apartment. He doesn’t expect Mac to be awake; it’s only 9:30, and he was at The Rainbow most likely moping endlessly to get some empathetic ass until 3:00-something this morning. Dennis was asleep on the couch, a beer in one hand and the remote in the other, when Mac sluggishly came home, covered head to toe in yellow glitter and slurring his words. He took Dennis to bed anyway. 

Lugging the thing upstairs is simple because he’s been working out more often, trying to get in shape and stay that way before winter arrives. He unlocks the door and wheels the bike inside.

“Oh what the fuck,” Dennis says, plan foiled.

Mac is munching on a bowl of cereal on the couch, bare feet on the coffee table. He’s wearing his silk robe, and his hair is so messy Dennis desperately wants to fix it. Mac drops the spoon as soon as Dennis puts the kickstand down. 

“What is this? Is this a joke? Why would you get yourself a bike, dude, after everything I’ve gone through?” Mac starts spouting nonsense, and Dennis lets him finish, arms crossed and trying to hide a small smile. Mac is kind of cute when he’s worked up. He finishes with, “That bike meant the world to me, and now you’re just mocking me, you sick freak!”

Dennis blinks. “Are you done?”

“Fuck you,” Mac spits.

“Hey, asshole. It’s yours.”

Mac’s puppy dog eyes widen. “What?”

“The bike,” Dennis says. “It’s for you.”

“Don’t mess with me, Den. It’s really not fucking funny.”

Dennis rolls his eyes. “I’m not messing with you, you giant baby. I bought the bike for you to replace the old one.”

“Seriously?”

“Would I lie to you?”

Mac nods immediately. “Yeah, dude.”

“Whatever,” he says. He tries to ignore the tears swelling in Mac’s eyes. Dennis rubs the back of his neck and watches as Mac checks out the brand new bike. 

“Why would you do this?” Mac whispers, sniffling after. He puts his hand on the seat like it’s a heart, and he’s checking for signs of life.

He shrugs. “It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal, Den. You’re never nice to me. To anyone, for that matter.”

“I am nice! I’m the nicest person alive!”

“Only when you’re trying to get something out of it!” Mac reasons. “What’s your plan? What’re you tryin’ to do to me?”

“Oh my God!” Dennis exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m not trying to do anything to you, Mac! I felt bad that your bike got stolen, and you wouldn’t shut up about it, so I bought you a new one!”

Mac looks at him. “Really?”

“Yes! Now can you please shut up about it?” This whole thing’s starting to make his skin crawl, and he kind of wishes he hadn’t done it. But Mac always gets so torn up about losing things that are important to him, and Dennis can’t fight the compulsion he has to fix it, to try to make everything right, even though he ends up making things worse more often than not.

“You really did this just to be nice?”

Dennis clenches his jaw. He kicks at his shoes until they’re flying off his feet and into the wall. He stomps over to the couch to sit down because he’s positive his brain will implode. He doesn’t want to yell anymore. He’s been trying not to yell so much. His therapist in North Dakota forced him to think about the way he was expressing himself after Dennis got an ulcer from the anger constantly brewing in his gut and swallowing him whole. But Mac is fucking frustrating and annoying and the most irritating person Dennis has ever had the misfortune of meeting. 

Mac sits down next to him. He keeps his distance, like he’s been doing recently since the whole ‘time’s up’ thing. Dennis is grateful for that. “Sorry, Den. I just… This surprised me. I… I really appreciate it.”

“No big deal,” Dennis says. “I just don’t like seeing you upset.”

The words slip off his tongue like they mean nothing, but they mean absolutely everything.

Dennis has fucked up. Dennis has burned a lot of bridges. Dennis manipulates until he gets his way. But something still tugs at his heartstrings when Mac is frowning. 

“Thank you, Den. Really. It means a lot to me.”

“Yeah,” Dennis says, eager to change the subject. “I also got you this.”

He pulls out a bike lock from the pocket of his jeans. The dude’s bike can’t keep getting stolen, especially not by 12 year old dickweeds, sons of assholes that Charlie and Mac were picked on by growing up. Mac needs to learn a little responsibility when it comes to the ownership of his things, and Dennis is trying to help him establish that foundation.

“What’s that?” Mac asks as Dennis hands the lock over.

Dennis rolls his eyes, but it’s sort of funny because Mac is an absolute idiot. “It’s a bike lock. It’ll prevent twerps from stealing your new ride.”

“I’ve never had one of these before.”

“Well now you do.”

“It’s so awesome! Look! You put in the numbers on the back, and it unlocks just like this! I don’t get how it’ll keep my bike safe though, man, because the Philly streets are ruthless.”

Dennis chuckles. He can’t help it. The enthusiasm radiating from Mac is infectious. “I’ll show you how to use it.”

“Right now?”

“Sure. Put some pants on first.”

“Fuck that. Let’s go.”

And that’s how Dennis finds himself pressed against the grimy brick wall of their building, the brand new bike safe and sound. Mac’s lips are warm and soft on his. Mac asks if it’s alright before he touches him. The world locks into place for that moment.


End file.
